A/N: Hello dear readers! First, I'd like to thank everyone who'd click the "Subscribe" Button and spared time reading my second fic. Second, I'm sorry for the slow progress of this fiction (I've been busy for quite sometime and ideas seemed to be wandering out of my head). Third, we have nine more chapters to go! I guess I had some of you pampered by giving out double updates recently. Shall I update two chapters at a time, from now on? Kkk.. Let's see :)

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Jiyong drove past Bom’s café to see the open sign go out and lights start to flicker off inside. He gave the voice command to dial Bom’s cell and then turned to circle the block.

After a few rings, she answered, her breathless voice doing odd things to his insides.

“I'll just be a minute,” she said by way of greeting.

“No hurry. I’m circling the block. I'll pull up so you can just come out.”

He maneuvered the SUV through traffic and waited for the light to turn so he could turn back onto her street.

He tapped his thumbs impatiently on the steering wheel and he realized that he was anxious to see her again.

It didn’t compute. He had this sick love-hate relationship going on. He wanted to be as far from her as possible. She made him nervous. She looked at him like she could see right past the front he put on.

At the same time, when he was away even a short period of time, he got anxious. He needed to know she was okay, that she had everything she needed. That she was safe.

And hell, if he was honest, he just wanted to see her again.

He had to let go of his pain. He had to move on. But how did one ever just decide that sort of thing? At what point did the hurting stop? At what point did one stop being gripped by paralyzing fear over the thought of losing someone you cared about?

He didn’t have the answers, and until he did, this thing between him and Bom would never work. He didn’t want it to work.

Which didn’t explain why he was circling the block, anxious to see her again. It made no sense. He should be at home. He should have never apologized, though he certainly owed her the apology and more. But he should have let it go, allowed her to remain angry with him. In the end it was kinder to both of them. A clean break. No remorse. No recriminations. No dragging it out only to rehash it all again later.

But he wanted to see her. He wanted… He wanted her. On his own terms. He recognized the selfishness of it and yet he couldn’t stop himself from craving her. In or out of bed. It mattered little to him. He just wanted to be near her because, God help him, he felt more alive whenever she walked into a room.

He slowed as he approached her shop and leaned forward to see if she was waiting. She was at her door, locking up, the wind blowing through her dark hair.

Then she turned and he was struck by the picture she presented. Young, vibrant, beautiful.

She saw him and waved, her face lighting up with a gorgeous smile. She hurried forward, one hand cupped to her belly and the other hanging on to her purse. He stopped and leaned over to push open the door for her.

She climbed in, melted into the seat with a sweet sigh and then turned that dazzling smile on him.

It was like being kicked in the stomach.

“It is sooo nice to be off my feet,” she said.

Blinking, he realized he was sitting still while angry horns beeped behind him. He eased off the brake and drove away, listening as she talked in animated fashion about her day and how amazing the turnout had been.

His blood hummed with desire. With need. He wanted her. He didn’t want to want her.

He couldn’t process a single rational thought.

Suddenly the thought of spending so much time in a restaurant didn’t appeal. She looked tired. He was impatient. He needed to have her to himself.

“Change in plans,” he said gruffly as he turned left so he could circle back to her apartment.

She roused from her semi stupor and shot him an inquisitive glance. “What’s up? You standing me up?”

He smiled at the growl in her voice. “Oh, no, far from it. What I’m doing is taking you back to your place so you can put your feet up on the couch while I order us the best damn Korean food money can buy. Then I’m going to take you to bed, give you an all-over body massage and make love to you until you pass out.”

Her eyes widened and then she blinked, momentarily speechless. “Well, okay,” she finally said.

He smiled in satisfaction at her acceptance. It was more than okay.

* * *

When Bom let them into her apartment, the air was electric and heavy with anticipation.

She wouldn’t even meet his gaze because she was sure she was an open book, and hey, a woman had to have some mystery, right?

Only it wasn’t a mystery that she wanted him. Or that from the moment he’d laid out his plans for the evening she’d become a quivering ball of anticipation.

She walked ahead of him into the living room, her step lighter than it had been al day. Her fatigue had fled and she felt energized. Ready.

Her skin prickled with tiny goose bumps every time he so much as looked her way. It felt like her very first date. Her very first kiss.

The first time she’d ever gotten in front of a man. She wasn’t sure whether she liked it or not.

“Why don’t you sit and relax,” he said. “I can find my way around your apartment. I'll phone in our order and get things started. Would you like something to drink?”

This suddenly very solicitous side of Jiyong was confusing the hel